5 Times Killian Jones Bathed (Quite Frequently With Emma Swan)
by killians-dimples
Summary: Self explanatory. Smut included.


**_One. _**

"This is your third shower today."

He looks a combination of guilty and scandalized when she tears back the curtain of the shower, interrupting his third 45-minute spa session of the day with a stern glance that does_not_ linger on the way the water rolls over his shoulder blades - along the strong muscles of his arms and down his chest, only to be interrupted by the smooth jut of his hip bones.

She swallows hard and tries to keep her lips tilted in a frown - channel the anger she felt when she opened the water bill to find an outrageous sum that she thought was either a mistake, or Regina utilizing those mayoral powers for ill will (she certainly wouldn't be shocked).

But when he had come in from whatever it is he does during the day, shucking his coat and heading straight for the bathroom, fingers lingering on his belt in a way that also did _not_ make her chest tighten and stomach drop - the mystery had been solved.

"I was under the impression that hot water in this land was not difficult to come by." He tilts his head back into the stream of water with a grin, the jet black strands falling into his eyes until he slicks it back with one easy swipe of his hand and _nope_ - nope, this was a bad idea.

"Easy to come by, but not easy to pay for."

She watches his tongue prod the inside of his cheek, his thumb lingering on his bottom lip as his blue eyes sparkle with mischief and heat. "By all means, Swan," His tongue curls around her name with another tilt of his head, the water painting his skin pink. "Allow me to square away my debts."

His smile twists into something indecent and predatory, bare feet shuffling forward in the bottom of the tub until she can feel the steam rising off his skin, his nose dropping little marks of water on her sweater. She knows what he's going to do the split-second before he does it, and yet -

His hand cups her breast through the now sopping wet material of her top and he probably should have thought about how difficult it is to work wet denim down over skin but he's a determined man, if nothing else, and it _is_ a huge bill so -

She gasps when his teeth scrape along her collarbone, hot water meeting bare skin when he tugs her top up and over, tossing it over the shower curtain with a wet plop as he backs her into cool tiles - and maybe there is something to be said for extended showers.

**_Two. _**

Her hands slip against the wall with every push of his hips against her ass but she doesn't care because he's hitting _that spot _as he presses nonsensical words into the space beneath her ear - moans and grunts interspersed with whispered mutterings of her name as he pulls out only to push back in. The rhythm he's set is demanding and she can't do much more than rock her hips back into each powerful thrust - but with the way his fingers slide into the hair matted against her neck and twist, she can tell he doesn't mind.

"Killian," The heat curls tighter, her magic humming in approval as pleasure rises in her blood - shaking her bones until she can feel nothing but him and them and the way the charms of his necklace bite into the skin of her back. He sighs as the sparks dance along her skin, mingling with the water overhead until she feels like she's gone radioactive, his smile curved into the skin of her neck.

"That's it, lass." He swivels his hips and curls his fingers into a fist, using his other wrist to push down on the small of her back until she's practically bent in half, forehead resting against the shower wall as he pounds into her without restraint. There's a thud as the shampoo bottle clatters to the floor but she actually couldn't care less because the heat is spreading, pulling her tighter and tighter and _oh, god, yes - _

"The thing I enjoy most about this shower, darling," He snickers against the top of her spine, his fingers soothing the knots from her wet and tangled hair. "Easy clean-up."

**_Three. _**

Her hands are still shaking when she pushes him into the shower stall in the back of the sheriff's station, not even waiting for the water to be warm before she's scrubbing at his skin with the questionable loofah that hangs over the nozzle. The blood is still wet (when she closes her eyes she can still see him face down in the middle of the street and she _can't_) and it slides from his skin easily, painting the ceramic beneath their bare feet in hazy pink.

"Emma," his hand curls around her wrist but she doesn't stop her scrubbing, the hysteria closing around her throat like a noose because he had almost died - _again_ - and he's pretty fucking lucky she's channeled her healing powers because she's gonna kill him herself.

"Emma, it's okay," his grip tightens and he tugs her forward, her arm and the loofah trapped between them, their bodies pressed together from knee to shoulder. "I'm alright."

"Yeah, well you wouldn't be if I hadn't found you." There's a smear of blood on the line of his jaw and she works at it furiously with her thumb, not caring that she's probably using a bit too much pressure, telling herself that the steam is what's causing her eyes to prickle and burn. "What the hell were you thinking?"

"I was thinking you'd find me, which you very well did. I'm not about to let some bloody witch-dragon-wraith hybrid wreak mindless havoc upon - "

She cuts him off abruptly with her mouth on his, shoving him back by his shoulders and letting the loofah drop the ground. She swallows his surprised grunt with her tongue - fingers already dipping and searching, curling around him until he chokes out her name.

His eyes are hooded but still bright and when she drops to her knees in front of him, water pounding at her back, he curses - the hand on her shoulder trying to urge her back up.

"You don't have to - "

"Shut up." She brushes her lips over his straining cock, swirling her tongue lightly over him until his head drops back against the stall. "You don't get to talk right now."

She delights in the way his jaw clenches, and savors the way he tastes beneath her tongue.

**_Four. _**

"Care for some company, Swan?"

She nods as he starts to work at his belt buckle, toeing off his shoes as she sinks further back into the bubbles that rise to her chin. It's been a long day full of dramatic dwarves and lost boys gone rogue and when he arches an eyebrow with a smirk at the full bottle of wine sitting pretty in her hand (sans glass) she merely takes a pointed sip.

He nudges her forward so he can sink into the warm water behind her, sighing happily when she nestles between his legs. He's silent as he reaches around her for the bottle of wine, taking a sip and handing it back without comment. He presses a kiss to the place between shoulder and neck as she drops her head back against him and she'd be quite content to stay here forever - just like this - wine in her hand and a pirate pressed against her, lavender bubbles caught in the stubble along his jaw.

"How about," his hand dips beneath the water line, barely grazing her breast before trailing down her stomach, thumb tracing circles lower and lower until he hooks her ankle with his foot and spreads her legs wider. She finds herself appreciating his insistence they spring for the bigger bathtub as his palm smoothes over the inside of her thigh - but it's quickly replaced for an appreciation for that hand of his as his fingers dance over her clit. "I assist you in alleviating the stress of the day."

**_Five. _**

"No."

He doesn't acknowledge her statement as he continues to press her forward, the strings of her bikini catching in the rough bamboo the lines the shower walls. He tastes like sunscreen and tequila, and she really should have known better giving him a margarita on the beach because she knows what the man is like when he's had tequila and it's not even dusk yet and -

"Killian, there are _people._"

He noses at her neck, fingers toying lightly with the string at her hip, seemingly contemplating just how quickly he can divest her of the thing. She knows that look - the one where his tongue glides along his teeth and his eyes flash a shade darker, navy blue instead of the usual royal - and she knows it means nothing good.

(Or everything good.)

"Your point, love?" His thumb slides inward until he's pressing over her through the thin material of her suit, nudging at the nob for the water with his wrist until it flicks on. It's pleasantly warm, and she can taste the salt from her skin as it drips down her nose. He bites at his bottom lip as he slips his hand into her bottoms fully, fingers cupping her aching flesh. "I know you can be quiet."

"I thought you liked it when I'm loud, _oh, christ_ - "

He grins at her as he curls his fingers inside her, her thigh hitching over his hip as her hand tugs at his necklace. His chuckle is warm and tequila-tinged and they are _definitely _going to be kicked out of this hotel - but she can feel him against her thigh and there's only so much a woman can take of a sun-kissed, salt-skinned Killian Jones.

"I like quite many a thing, Swan." He finally figures out those strings around her hip as he ducks down and lifts beneath her knees, her legs wrapping around his waist and her fingers fumbling at the ties for his bathing suit.

"But there's nothing I adore more than you and a warm shower."


End file.
